


Warmth

by theRougeChevalier



Series: 25 days of Christmas [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 10:17:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5371637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theRougeChevalier/pseuds/theRougeChevalier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first of my 25 days of Christmas holiday shorts challenge series.  <br/>1.Warmth <br/>A look into the hearts of a lady and a warrior.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warmth

1\. Warmth   
After having lived in the North for her whole life Sansa was sure she knew what it meant to be cold, but she was wrong she realized after arriving in King’s Landing. It was true at first things had been picturesque and wonderful as she had always imagined fairytales to be, but after the death of her father, the disappearance of her sister and becoming a hostage to the Lannister family she now realized that there was a different type of cold then the cold beyond the walls of Winterfell.   
This was the cold of heartlessness, the cold of greed, and vengeance, hate, and violence like she’d never known. She had always thought violence was of the hot blooded nature, but knowing Cersei and Joffrey she now could see that violence was just as easily served cold.   
There was only one warm spot in her life, and that warmth came in a very unusual form. That of Sandor Clegane, the Hound as he was better known.   
Most would call the warrior hot blooded and fierce and he certainly was that. He was also cruel, crass, and violent, but she had a feeling that was all for show. Just as he had once called her out for her perfect manners and practiced charm, he too was playing a part. She found comfort in that commonality they shared. She also found comfort in his strength and quiet assurances. He may not have been a perfect knight or handsome, but she would take his warm presence at her back any day to Joffrey’s ice cold stare by her side.   
*~*~*~  
Sandor was afraid of fire, it was not a well-known fact as he liked to keep it hidden from everyone else he lose his reputation as a hardened warrior. But it was the truth, the Hound was afraid of fire. Anything hot made him nervous, the only sweat he wanted to work up was in the training yards and on the battlefields. He never wanted to be too warm. Even in the winters, or when they had travelled to Winterfell, the coldest place he had ever been, he was careful not to get too close to the hearth.   
Although in Winterfell he had even felt an unease just being within it’s walls, as the walls of Winterfell were heated by continuous streams of hot water from the keep’s underground hot springs. It was a comfort to the keep’s inhabitants, but made Sandor feel as though he were baking in his own skin, trapped. It was only outside the walls of Winterfell, in the shadow of the ancient keep that he felt any remote sense of calm. Calmer in fact than he had ever felt. The icy wind blowing through him, the snow swallowing his boots, it cooled his hot blood and tamed his rage.   
Ironically enough he found that same trait in a daughter of Winterfell, Sansa Stark, whom he called ‘Little Bird’.   
To most people she was the very definition of warmth. Always genial, young, beautiful, full of life, warmth. But Sandor could see past the façade, all the smiles and courtesies, part of the little show she put on daily, playing the part of the perfect young lady, especially after her father’s death that was when all the true warmth left her.   
She played it cool most of the time although she was prone to occasional fits of emotion and panic as most young noble ladies were want to do when exposed to such conditions as she had found in King’s Landing. He couldn’t blame her. If he wasn’t such a bitter and jaded individual he might have shown her more sympathy. Not to say he did not feel bad for what she had been through; for such a beautiful flower should never be treated so harshly. For even a man as hideous as he could appreciate true beauty. Hell any man could appreciate beauty when it was Sansa Stark, but he could see beyond it. Beyond her false warmth, the cool exterior she used to protect herself, to the true heart of the Stark daughter. Cold, that same cold comfort that Sandor had experienced outside the walls of Winterfell, and that was why he protected her; against all odds, despite his reputation and the Lannisters rage he protected and sheltered her the best he could, and even began to love her, in his way.   
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
Considering all this it should not have been a surprise when the holidays came to the city of King’s Landing that on the night of giving gifts that Sandor Clegane found of the bureau in his rooms a beautiful painted fan and Sansa Stark found on the table in her room a bulky woolen scarf. One to keep a cool heart warm and protected. The other to cool the hot headed rage and banish the flames of terror.


End file.
